Affliction
by Ellivia22
Summary: Shelley has always been abusing Stan. But after learning about his most guarded secret, the abuse turns deadly. Can Kyle save his best friend in time? SLASH Style, Bunny, slight Candy. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

(A/N: Hey guys! I hope you all enjoy this story. The boys are all 14 in this story and Freshmen in high school. Shelley is 17 and a senior)

Warning: This story contains SLASH! If you don't like it, please don't read it!

Summery: Shelley has always been abusing Stan. But after learning about his most guarded secret, the abuse turns deadly. Can Kyle save his best friend in time? SLASH Style, Bunny, slight Candy

**Affliction**

**Chapter 1**

**Stan**

___Sunday October 19, 2007_

___Today is going to be AWESOME! It's my 14th____birthday and I have a great day planned. All my friends are coming over for a birthday lunch at my house with cake and presents. Then we are going to go to Fun Land to spend the day. I can't wait to hang out with my best friends: Kenny, Butters, and most importantly: Kyle_

___Since it's my birthday, I think it is time for me to come clean about something. Something that I've been battling with my inner self for quite some time. I know I will feel much better once I get it off my chest. I'm gay. This journal is the only thing that knows and will know about my sexuality. Everybody thinks I have a strong, healthy, heterosexual relationship with Wendy. It's all a charade. Wendy and I are through (she was nice enough to dump me yesterday, but I've found that I don't care). I haven't had feelings for her in a long time._

___Kyle is the most important person in my life and I'm madly in love with him. I realized my feelings for him a couple of months ago when we went swimming at the local community pool. I couldn't keep my eyes off his broad chest and thick red curls. He's so sweet and caring, I can't help but be crazy about him. I will never tell him how I feel. I know he'll never feel the same way._

___Someone's at the door. I got to go._

___~Stan~_

I glance up from my notebook after signing my name. I feel so much better getting everything off my chest. I feel light like a feather, as if I'm walking on air. The only thing that could make me feel happier is if Kyle felt the same way, but I know he doesn't. I'm happy enough to be best friends with him.

***knock knock***

The knocks continue on my door. I had forgotten that someone had knocked on my door. I snap back from my thoughts, hiding my journal behind my pillow. "Come in," I say cheerfully.

The door opens, revealing my best friend in the entire world. Kyle is standing there wearing a green T-shirt and jeans, his green ushanka on his head. His luscious red curls stick out from his hat. He looks absolutely amazing. I grin at him, trying my hardest to keep the blush off my face. "Hey dude,"

He grins back at me, making my heart do a flip. He sits next to me on the bed. My heart pounds because of his presence. I high five my best friend. I notice he's hiding something beside his back. "What's that?" I ask.

He grins sheepishly, pink appearing on his cheeks. "I, uh, wanted to give you this before everyone gets here." He hands me a small white box. "Happy birthday, dude."

I smile. It doesn't matter what it is. I treasure anything Kyle gives me. Carefully, I open the box. Nestled inside is a small ring. With a trembling hand, I pick it up. The ring is blue with a dragon design on both sides. It's absolutely beautiful.

Kyle smiles nervously. "It's a friendship ring. I have the other one." I notice a ring on his right hand. His is green. "I just wanted to let you know how much your friendship means to me."

I put the ring on my right index finger. "Thanks, Kyle. It's perfect."

I hug him tightly, trying my hardest not to stroke the red curls that are poking from his hat. My heart pounds harder in my chest having him so close to me. If only he felt the same way.

"Boys!" My mom calls from downstairs. "Everybody's here!"

Kyle and I break apart and head downstairs. My body tingles from his touch. A huge grin is on my face. Today is going to be a great day.

SKS

I wake up the next morning feeling great. Yesterday was the best day ever. I ate cake, rode rides, and got to spend time with my friends and family. The most important person of all was Kyle. I glance at the ring on my finger. His gift was by far the best. Don't get me wrong, all the gifts from my friends were great, but his was the best because it came from him.

I hurriedly go through my morning routine of shower and breakfast and saying goodbye to my parents. The sooner I get to the bus stop, the sooner I get to see my best friend. I place my dishes in the sink. Yesterday's events were so wonderful I can't get the grin off my face. I'm about to grab my backpack when someone grabs me from behind.

I whirl around just in time to see a fist heading in my direction. I cry out in surprise as the blow hits me hard in the face, knocking me to the ground. Through my good eye, I see a blurry version of my sister, Shelley. 5'7 with long dyed blonde hair, she turned beautiful. Beautiful but deadly.

Shelley grabs me by my shirt and slams me hard against the wall. I grunt in pain and surprise. She hasn't hurt me like this in a long time. Over the years she's given me maybe a black eye or two when her day wasn't going right, but for the most part, the abuse had stopped all together. "S-shelley w-what?" I manage to gasp out.

**WHAM!**

Pain explodes in my face as she punches me again. I feel my nose break, the blood running down my face. "You stupid turd!" she snarls in my face.

"Shelley stop!" I beg as she continues to punch me hard over and over again. I feel one of my ribs crack. I struggle hard to breathe. "S-shelley why?"

WHAM! Another blow lands on the side of my face. "Why?" Shelley screams in my face. The pain is strong, but I force myself to remain conscious. "WHY? I'm punishing you! How COULD you do this to our family?"

Before I can ask her what the hell she's talking about she drags me out of the kitchen. My heart races in fear. I know what she's capable of. When she's pissed off, she can do much damage, especially to her favorite target-which is me. I wonder what she's going to do to me this time. Shelley opens the basement door and tosses me down the stairs.

I land hard on the ground, my head hitting the cement floor. My right arm is underneath me. I feel like it's broken. I hope it's just sprained. I hate hospitals. Though I would be able to show my parents proof of Shelley's abuse. The world spins around me. I curl up in a fetal position, desperate to shield my important organs from her reach. Her footsteps echo on the stairs, making my now forming headache worse.

"You ask what you did as if you don't already know?" Her foot manages to get through my fetal position and hit my stomach. I give up and lay on my back. She kicks me again. This time I'm unable to hold down my breakfast. I barely miss her shoes. She grabs my hair and forces me to look into her angry face. "Fine. I'll tell you. While you were taking a shower this morning I found an interesting notebook hiding behind your pillow."

My heart hammers in my chest. She found my notebook. She must know everything now, including my most guarded secret: my sexual orientation. "How COULD you be gay?"

WHAM! Another blow hit's my battered face.

"How COULD you do this to our family?"

I grunt in pain as I feel her shoe hit my chest. Another rib is broken, I'm sure of it. It's getting harder and harder to breathe. The pain is so bad I can't keep my eyes open anymore. I close my eyes tight. I feel her drag me to the middle of the basement. "I'm going to beat the homosexuality out of you, turd. I don't care if it takes days, weeks, months, or years. I'm going to beat the hell out of you as often as I can until you see the light," she snarls.

**SLAP!**

I feel a hot stinging sensation hit my back. I feel very weak as the blood leaves my body. "If you EVER tell anybody about this, I'll kill the one person you love the most. Your precious Kyle."

Tears fall down my face as Shelley continues to beat me with a foreign object. She's hurt me before, but it has never been this bad. And I have a bad feeling it's about to get worse: much worse.

******Thanks for reading. Please review :)**


	2. Chapter 2

(A/N: Thank you guys SO much for your feedback! It means SO much to me! I'm glad that you guys like this story so far! Keep it up! :))

Disclaimer: South Park is sadly not mine

******Affliction**

******Chapter 2**

******Stan**

I cringe as I place more antiseptic on the deep gash on my forearm. I got the gash from trying to shield myself from what I now know is a whip. I don't know where Shelley got it, and I don't want to know. After she beat me up, she left the house, much to my relief. It took a while for me to pull myself up the basement stairs and to my room.

Letting out a sigh of relief, I put down the antiseptic at last. I take the medical cloth from the first aid kit and wrap myself up. As I do so, I stare at myself in the mirror.

My body is black and blue from all of Shelley's kicks and punches. More than half of my body is wrapped up with the medical cloth to stop the bleeding from her whip and various other cuts. Since I can't reach my back, I couldn't put on any antiseptic so I just guessed and wrapped myself up. Luckily my arm is just sprained so I don't have to worry about going to the hospital. I just have to be careful using it.

As carefully as I can, I pull on my black jeans and black shirt. I've decided to wear black from now on, because it'll be the easiest to hide the blood that might show up. If anybody asks about it, I'll just say I'm depressed over losing Wendy again (which is totally not true). And as much as I hate to think about it, maybe Kyle will stop hanging out with me, which will make him safer. I glance at my watch. 8:15. Just a few more touches and I'll be ready. If I hurry I can maybe just 10 minutes late to school. Luckily my homeroom teacher never takes attendance.

After cleaning all the cuts on my face, I grab my mother's cover up. I know it sounds totally messed up and gay, but it's the only way I can think of to hide the heavy bruises and cuts on my face. Once I'm done with my face, it's time to add the final touches: my black Rockies baseball cap and sunglasses.

I stare at myself one last time. I don't look great, but at least I don't look obvious. Hopefully nobody will notice my broken nose. It's the only thing I can't hide. I grab my backpack, stumble out of my house, and start the painful walk to school.

KSK

******Kyle**

"And that's how you prove that this is an acute triangle," my AP Geometry Mrs. Kelly drones on.

I roll my eyes. This class is so boring. And pointless. When in the hell am I going to have to prove that something is a triangle in real life? It's just lame. I tune out my boring math teacher. My thoughts turn to my best friend, Stan Marsh. I can't help but be worried about him. He didn't show up at the bus stop this morning. He never misses school, unless he's really sick. I really hope he's okay. I care about him more than anything in the world.

The bell rings, making me sigh in relief. Lunch time at last. I'll get to hang out with my best friends, Kenny and Butters. We finally were able to kick Cartman out of the group in 7th grade, thank God. It's made my life a hell lot easier. I rub my head. My brain needs a rest from all those AP classes. I grab my books and enter the hallway, my mind full. It felt so weird sitting by myself on the bus today. The spot beside me was almost always occupied. I decide to stop by Stan's place after school just to make sure he's okay.

I stop dead in my tracks. Standing by my locker, rummaging through his own is my best friend. Right off the bat I notice something isn't right. Stan is wearing all black with a black baseball cap over his messy hair. My heart thuds in my chest. I hope he's not joining the Goth kids again. I hurry over to him. "Stan!"

He glances up at me. I notice he's wearing dark shades. He's never worn them before. He grins at me. "Hey dude."

My eyes widen. It's obvious that Stan's nose is broken. Shelley must've hit him again. "Why are you wearing black again?" I ask.

He sighs. "Wendy dumped me the other day," he says in a hoarse voice. I stare at him suspiciously. His sounds more like he's having a hard time breathing, not suffering from a break up.

Now is not the time to investigate his strange behavior. I decide to play along for now. I place my hand on his shoulder. "Sorry dude," I say sympathetically. "You'll just have to forget about her. She's a slut anyway."

Stan nods mutely. "What happened to your nose?" I ask.

He touches it gingerly. "I ran into a door."

I shake my head. "You should be more careful."

Stan breaks the small silence between us. "Sorry I didn't meet you. I accidentally overslept."

He stumbles over his last sentence, but I let it slide. I still find the fact that he's wearing sunglasses indoors odd, but I don't want to press the issue right now. I'm just so glad that he's here. I smile at him. "No problem, dude. Ready for lunch?"

He nods and we head towards the cafeteria. Nervousness bubbles inside me. Stan's never lied to me before, and I know he's lying to me right now. Something is up.

SKS

It's the end of the day and Stan and I just got off the bus. During the rest of the day, my worry for my best friend started to increase. Stan didn't say a word during lunch. I tried everything I could think of him to talk, even trying to get into an argument, but no luck. He refused to look at anyone, and had a hard time eating his lunch.

We start walking to our houses in silence. I'm trying to think of what to say to him. The silence between us is really starting to get to me. Out of the corner of my eye, I glance at my best friend.

Stan is walking beside me. His face is full of pain and fear. I watch in concern as he clutches his chest tightly. "Are you okay?" I ask.

He turns his attention to me and forces a smile on his face. "I'm fine. My asthma's just been acting up a lot lately. Don't worry, Kyle."

___I wouldn't worry if you weren't acting so strange_ I think to myself. I grab him by the shoulder to make him stop walking and face me. Agony forms on his face, making me step back slightly. What the hell is wrong with him? I want to ask him to tell me the truth about what's going on, but I can't. I'm afraid to know. I swallow the lump in my throat. "You want to go to my house and play video games?" I ask, even though I'd be staying up all night getting all the homework done for my AP classes. I don't care. As long as I get to spend time with my best friend.

Stan gives me an almost sad smile. "Sorry, but I've got a lot of homework."

"Oh. Okay," I say in disappointment. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Later."

We go our separate ways. My heart is pounding hard against my chest. Something isn't right. He's definitely hiding something.

******Thanks for reading. Please review :)**


	3. Chapter 3

(A/N: Sorry if the last chapter was a little boring. It was mainly a filler chapter. This one might be a bit long, but I hope you like it anyway. :))

Disclaimer: South Park is not mine

******Affliction**

******Chapter 3**

******Stan**

***********____****one month later***

I open my eyes wearily, slowly coming into consciousness. The world is spinning around me. Every port of my body is throbbing. It hurts to blink. The room is quiet. Shelley must be done with me. For now. A couple of tears fall down my face as Shelley's cruel words ring in my head. ___"What's the matter, little brother? Can't you stand up to a girl? You're pathetic."_

I lie on the cement floor, waiting for my strength to return. Then I can get to school and see Kyle. Seeing him every day is the only thing keeping me sane. He has stubbornly stuck by my side. I've given up on pushing him away. At the same time, my heart longs for him and needs him close to me.

Since my birthday, I've kept a low profile. I try hard as I can to not attract attention. I quit the football team and all the other sports. I don't want to have to change in the locker room and people seeing the marks on my skin. During class, I keep my head down so nobody would see my black eyes. Luckily I don't have any of the same classes with my friends, so they can't ask me too many questions. After school, I still walk home with Kyle, but don't say anything. I don't want him to know what's going on. I know I'm hurting him a lot, but I have to keep him safe. When I get home, I receive another beating from Shelley. Then I have to clean the blood before my parents get home. In order to save Kyle's ring from being crushed by Shelley, I placed it in my shoebox that I keep in the hole in the wall by my bed.

Carefully I roll on my back. Pain sears through me as the lashes on my skin make contact on the ground. The pain is terrible today. I feel as though all my skin has been peeled off my back. She did a real number on me this time. I don't think I have a piece of skin that isn't marked up. The clock on the wall is blurry to me. I think it's 8:00. I'm surprised I came back into consciousness this soon. I might be able to make it t class on time for a change. Usually I don't come into consciousness until 8:15 and I'm almost always 10 minutes late to class everyday. If my teacher actually took role I would've been suspended by now.

Using most of my strength, I grab a hold of the leg of a chair and pull myself to a sitting position. I survey my wounds. My shirt is torn; luckily I have plenty of black shirts to wear. My chest is heavily bruised and covered in lashes. Blood is running freely down my chest. My whole body throbs in pain. The ground is soaked in my blood. Shelley's whip lies by my side.

Grabbing on anything I can reach, I manage to pull myself up the stairs. As I do everyday I pray that the school day will go as long as possible.

******Kenny**

I take the last sip of my milk as I finish my lunch, my free hand holding Butters' gently. It's been a really quiet lunch. Just like it has been the past month. Ever since Stan changed, nobody has been talking much. It usually really bothers me, but not today. I'm being entertained just by watching the body language between Stan and Kyle. I've caught Stan giving Kyle lust filled smiles when he's not looking. He never goes anywhere without his sunglasses. I bet behind his sunglasses Stan's eyes are shining with adoration. Kyle's eyes are full of concern. It's apparent to me that Stan has crush on Kyle, and is definitely hiding something. Kyle is concerned about his best friend. I know Kyle loves Stan. He just doesn't realize it yet. And me Kenny, the "Sex God" will get them together.

Suddenly a huge fatass appears behind Stan and Kyle. "Well, well. If it isn't the Jew, the Goth, the pussy, and the poor kid."

I roll my eyes. "For the last time, we're not letting you back in the group, fatass."

Cartman scoffs. "As if I'd want to be in your faggy group again."

"Then beat it," Kyle snarls. "We're trying to eat our lunch, not throw it up."

"Whatever, Jew. I actually wanted to say something to the faggy Goth kid you hang out with."

"What Cartman?" Stan asks in a monotone voice. His voice is tired and weak. Like Kyle, I am also concerned for my friend. I give a sideways glance at my boyfriend. He's looking at Stan in concern.

"Well, I was out with that ex girlfriend of yours , Wendy Testaburger last night. We had dinner and fun in the bedroom. Wendy said that I've been the man of her dreams and she only dated you to make me jealous!"

"Shut up Cartman," Kyle says fiercely. I watch as Stan's face turns paper white.

Cartman continues, ignoring Kyle. "Anyway, while we were in bed, she continued to say how she only dated you to improve her social status. She thinks you're a total loser."

Alarm builds up inside my veins watching Stan's body starting to shake violently. "SHUT UP CARTMAN!" Kyle says through gritted teeth. He wraps and arm around Stan. A grin spreads across my face watching Kyle's being affectionate towards his best friend. "Stan, don't listen to that fat piece of crap," Kyle says in a soothing voice. "He only wishes he had a date with that skank."

Wendy suddenly slides next to Cartman, her slender figure pressing up against his great pounds of fat. "There you are my sexy beast."

I watch in disgust as Wendy presses her lips against Cartman's. How disgusting is that? A huge blob of fat making out with a skinny bitch. Stan bolts from our table and stumbles out of the cafeteria. "Stan, wait!" Kyle cries, running after him.

Cartman and Wendy continue to make out. I can see tongues and everything. Usually it would turn me on, but not when it's Wendy and Cartman. I can't take this anymore. It's time to break this up. I give a sideways glace at Butters, who is still in awe over what just happened. I nudge him. I point at Stan's uneaten tray. "Should I?" I ask under my breath.

Butters shifts uncomfortably. "I dunno, Kenny. I might get grounded."

I roll my eyes. Butters gets grounded for everything, but I can't help but love the little butterball. I take Stan's full tray with peas, cornbread, milk and meatloaf covered in ketchup and dump it over both of their heads. Wendy shrieks as the milk and ketchup seeps into her long hair and brand new black tank top. Cartman turns so red he looks like an overcooked beet. "You are a dead man, Kenny!" Cartman bellows.

I drop the tray and run for dear life. Luckily Cartman is so fat I'm a few good steps ahead of him. I enter a deserted hallway. I dart into an adjacent locker. I don't care whose it is. I just want to escape certain death for once. I glance through the slots. Cartman skids into the hall. "Goddamnit! Where did he go? Come out Kenny! I'm going to kick you square in the nuts!"

I watch nervously as Cartman starts going through the lockers. Sweat drops from my face as he looms closer and closer. "Don't worry about him, babe," Wendy says in a voice that makes my pants tighten. "Let's just get cleaned up."

"Fine ho," Cartman says, slapping Wendy on the ass. She giggles and they leave the hall together. I breathe a sigh of relief. I won't get a beating from him today. I know I'll have to stay as far away from him as possible, but it was totally worth it. I'm about to leave the locker when two familiar people appear. Stan and Kyle. Right off the bat I can tell things aren't going well between them. I listen closely.

"It's nothing, Kyle," Stan says quietly. I notice his voice is full of pain. "I accidentally ran into a door."

I'm confused. What are they talking about? Suddenly something is pushed against the locker I'm hiding in. Now all I can see is black hair and a black shirt. It must be Stan, since he's practically the only 9th grader who wears black. What the hell? It looks like a thin red scar poking from underneath Stan's shirt.

"Did Shelly hurt you again?" Kyle asks quietly. I lean in closer so I don't miss anything. I'm interested to hear the answer. The answer never comes. "Why don't you stand up to her, dude?" Kyle asks. "She's just a girl."

"I t-told you," Stan stammers. "I fell down the stairs."

___He can't keep his story straight. Something really bad must be going on_. "I thought you ran into the door," Kyle says suspiciously.

I feel movement against the locker once again as Stan pushes himself off it. "I gotta go."

This whole scene has been mind bottling. Before I can contemplate anything, the shelf above me gives way, crushing me. I gasp for breath as pain shoots through my body. As my heartbeat starts to slow down, I realize how bad the situation is. Stan is in real danger. Before I accept death, I wonder what I can do to help.

******Kyle**

I give Cartman one last glare then run out of the cafeteria after Stan. My insides burn in hatred for that fat piece of crap. He knows how sensitive Stan is. Why does he always have to be such an asshole? On the other hand, that's why we refuse to let him back into the group. I wish he would leave us alone. I have enough to worry about right now.

Over the past month Stan changed drastically before my eyes. He's like a new person. Distant, quiet. I've never seen him like this before. He's tried several times to push me away, but I refuse to let him. I'm not ever going to leave him. No matter what. I'm have a horrible feeling that Shelley's hurting him again. He always seems to be in pain when he comes to school, which is always late. Whenever I would ask him about it, he would make up excuses. What hurts the most is that he doesn't trust me enough to tell the truth.

I enter the hall to see my best friend running away. "Stan! Wait!" I call after him.

Stan looks over his shoulder. I watch as he trips and lands hard on the floor. The impact of his body hitting the ground echoes horribly on the walls. I am frozen on the spot, unsure of what to do. Stan lays there for a few seconds.

As I run over to him, he struggles to get up. His sunglasses are a couple of inches away from him. I pick them up. Stan is still having a hard time getting up. Carefully I wrap my arms around his torso. My heart starts pounding hard against my chest, my breath quickening. Using all my strength I help Stan to his feet. "Are you okay?" I ask quietly.

Stan clutches on me tight. His body is shaking hard. "Thanks, Kyle," Stan says quietly. His voice is pained and tired. I keep my arms around him, not wanting to let go. Then something catches my eye.

For the first time in a month, I have been able to see his eyes, which are shut tight. With his eyes shut I am able to see even more. Stan's eyes are coated with very dark, very heavy bruises. I am unable to hold back the gasp. "What the hell happened?" I ask in alarm.

Stan takes the sunglasses out of my hands and puts them back on, but not before I see his blue eyes. They're pained, scared and swollen. He breaks away from my grip and starts stumbling away from me. "It's nothing, Kyle." His face is still pale. "I just ran into a door."

I follow him. Luckily he's not moving very fast. He's been using that and 'I fell down the stairs' too often this past month. I have to voice my opinion. I grab him by the arm and push him against the lockers gently. "Did Shelley hurt you again?" I watch in astonishment as Stan's face loses another pigment of color, confirming everything. "Why won't you stand up to her, dude? She's just a girl."

A tear rolls down his face. "I t-told you. I fell down the stairs."

I raise an eyebrow. "I thought you ran into a door."

Stan's face changes from pained to fear. He pushes me aside. "I gotta go."

Before he takes two steps, a HUGE crash is heard behind us. Stan turns and opens the locker I pushed him against. A bloody form of Kenny slides out. The locker shelf is on top of him. He's dead. "Oh my God! They killed Kenny!" Stan says, pointing at the bloody form of our other friend.

"You bastards!" I answer with a grin.

I throw an arm across my best friend's shoulder, our argument forgotten. "You want to come over after school and watch the newest Terrence and Phillip episode?"

Stan ponders. I cross my fingers, hoping with all my being that he says yes. We haven't done anything together in ages. I've missed it more than anything. "Can I stay for dinner?" he asks hopefully.

A huge grin spreads across my face. Finally I get to spend some time with the one I care about the most. The one I lo-whoa what? Where did that thought come from? I don't love him like that. I squeeze his shoulder gently. "Of course, dude."

The bell rings. As we walk our separate ways, I start counting down the minutes until I get to hang out with Stan again. Just like the old times.

******Thanks for reading. Please review :)**


	4. Chapter 4

(A/N: Thank you guys for your support!)

Disclaimer: South Park isn't mine

******Affliction**

******Chapter 4**

******Kyle**

"So then Kenny said 'I fuck life. It's the best sex I've ever had!"

Stan and I crack up as I finish my story. That Kenny is such a riot. My heart rises hearing Stan laugh. It's been such a long time. I've missed that sound. Maybe today will be just like the olden days.

We enter my house. It's nice and quiet. Mom has a meeting for her latest cause against guns. Ike is at a friend's house and Dad is still at work. We have the whole house to ourselves. "Dude this is going to be the best episode ever!" Stan says happily.

I grin and we sit together on the couch. I can't help but notice that we're sitting closer than usual. Instead of freaking out about it, I kind of like it. I turn on the TV. "I wonder what Kenny was doing in that locker," I comment.

Stan shrugs. I notice that he still has his sunglasses on. I wonder how he's going to watch the episode. I don't bring it up, though. I don't want to spoil the mood. "Probably trying to find a new way to look down a girl's top."

"Haha. Probably."

We watch Terrence and Phillip laughing our asses off. It IS a good episode. It's about Phillip being sent back to farting school because he had lost his ability to do so. Stan has been shifting around on the couch, trying to get comfortable. I can't help but notice how good looking he is-especially in black. Where the hell did that thought come from?

"Hey Terrence, I'm very upset."

"Why is that Phillip?"

"My teacher gave me an F in farting. Pfft!" Terrence farts on Phillip's head.

"HAHAHAHAHA!"

Stan and I laugh hysterically at the two Canadians. "Hey Kyle?"

"Hmmm?"

"I'm really sorry for the way I've been acting lately. I've been a real jerk. I don't mean to hurt you."

I really want to tell him what's on my mind. That him not telling me the truth is hurting me more than anything in the world. I want to tell him how important he is to me and how worried I am. I can't bring myself to do it. Stan is acting normal for the first time in a month. I don't want to ruin that. "It's okay, buddy." We turn our attention back to the TV.

"Will Phillip get his farting grade to an A? Find out after these commercials."

I get up from the couch. "I'm getting chips and a soda. You want some?"

Stan smiles at me, making my heart melt. "Sure."

Whistling to myself, I head to the kitchen. I feel happier than I've been in a long time. Maybe everything will go back to normal. I sure hope so. I'm sick of being lied to.

"Please stop!" a hysterical voice says from the living room. Stan. What the hell? Dropping the bowl of chips, I bolt back into the living room. My eyes widen in horror when I see my best friend.

Stan is curled up in a tight ball. His entire body is pale and shaking violently. Sobs are escaping from him. Sweat is pouring down his face and he's shivering at the same time. He's in shock. What in the hell happened? "What happened, Stan?" I demand shrilly. "What's wrong?"

No response. He continues to sob. I touch his shoulder gently. He curls up tighter. "Don't hurt me!" he cries in fear.

I stare at him, stunned. I knew Shelley was hurting him again, but I had no idea it was this bad. "Stan, calm down! It's me, Kyle."

He bolts up in a sitting position. His face is pale and tear stained. His body is still shaking harder than I thought was remotely possible. He gasps for breath. "What happened?" I ask again in fear.

He doesn't answer. My heart is pounding hard against my chest. I'm shaking as well. I'm scared to death. "I've gotta go," he says quickly, grabbing his backpack.

"Wait, don't go!" I beg. Without answering me, he bolts out the door. "Stan!"

I slump against the couch trying to calm my racing heart. What freaked him out so much? Why isn't he standing up to his sister? How badly is she hurting him? Why won't he tell me the truth?

The phone rings. My hand shaking, I answer it. I hope to God it's Stan. I need an explanation. "H-hello."

"Hey dude,"

Disappointment crosses me. "Hey Kenny."

"What's wrong? You sound upset."

I take a deep breath and explain what just happened. "...then he freaked and ran out the door." Kenny remains silent on the other line so I voice my thoughts. "Shelley is abusing Stan again, but this time I think it's really serious."

"Before I was killed earlier today, I was hiding from Cartman in a locker. I saw the argument you two were having. When Stan was against the locker, I saw a scar poking from his shirt. She must be hitting him with something."

I remember what happened earlier today. How weak he was. The abuse must be really bad. "He fell when I was chasing after him and couldn't get up. I had to help him up. He lost his sunglasses so I was able to see his heavily bruised eyes." I inform Kenny quietly. I swallow hard. "What should I do? If I tell someone, Shelley might hurt Stan even more. She might even kill him!"

"Maybe you should ask your parents for advice. Your dad is lawyer and your mom leads all those protests against child abuse."

"That's a great idea!" I exclaim, slapping a hand against my forehead. Why didn't I think of that before? "Thanks Kenny!" We're quiet for a moment. "How did you get back so fast?" I ask in curiosity.

"I was worried about Stan so I asked the man upstairs for a favor."

"That's good," I say quietly.

"Don't worry, Kyle. We'll figure something out. Mom's yelling at me. I gotta go."

"Later Ken and thanks for the advice."

"No problem."

I hang up the phone and lie back on the couch. Asking my parents is a great idea, but I have to do it hypothetically. I know that if I tell my suspicions to my dad that he's required by law to report it to the police. I don't want to take that step yet. I don't want to put put Stan in more danger without a plan. I grab the remote and start rewinding. I've got to know what freaked Stan out so much.

"Will Phillip get his farting grade to an A? Find out after these messages."

I hold my breath, not wanting to know what I'm going to find. It must be really bad to freak out my best friend.

"Coming this summer: a story about a woman's survival."

My green eyes widen in horror as I see a man viciously beating a woman on the screen. "Please stop!" she cries in pain, her cries echoing in my brain. I notice that's the same exact words Stan uttered when I found him.

The man slaps the woman hard across the face. "Shut up bitch! You're worthless!"

The advertisement continues, but I'm not paying attention. My heart is pounding hard against my chest in anxiety. This must be exactly what Stan is going through. He was probably experiencing flashbacks. No wonder he freaked. Unconsciously I turn off the TV. I have a horrible feeling my best friend is in real danger. I've been ignoring this situation too long. It's about time I did something about it. I must save him. I just wish I knew how.

******Stan**

I run out the door as fast as my battered body will allow me. My heart is pounding hard in my chest, fear consuming me. Once I started watching the woman being battered by her abuser I had flashbacks. I could see Shelley with her whip. I could hear her calling me "loser, worthless, faggot." I could feel the blows on my back as if it was actually happening.

Kyle must have freaked after my little incident. He already knows that Shelley hurts me, but doesn't know why or how bad. After I get this beating over with, I'll have to figure out a new way to distance myself from Kyle in order to protect him.

I get home in five minutes. I open the door, bracing myself for Shelley's wrath. She is sitting on the couch a cigarette in her hand. "You're late."

I don't answer. I sit my backpack down, my body still shaking. I'm not sure if it is from the commercial I just saw or fear of Shelley. Maybe it's a little bit of both. Shelley gets up and moves closer. "You went to the police, didn't you?"

I shake my head vigorously, ignoring the pain that flares just from this action. "No, Shelley. I told no one. I swear."

SMACK! She slaps me hard across the face. A stinging pain vibrates on my bruised face. "I hope for Kyle's sake you're telling the truth."

Shelley takes me by my black shirt and pulls me down to the basement. I stay on the ground and don't say a word. I learned pretty quick that pleading would only cause more pain. The pain today is fresh and new as she hits me over and over again with her whip. I feel as though my back is being split in two. I've never felt pain this agonizing in my entire life and it's about to get worse. To keep my mind off the pain, I think about how I'm going to keep Kyle safe. He knows that Shelley hits me and after what happened at his house he probably knows how bad it is. He's a smart kid.

Suddenly the agonizing blows stop. She kicks me hard in the stomach and the chest. I cough up blood, earning a kick in the face. My nose breaks once again. I don't think it's fully healed from the last time she broke it-which was this morning.

The world starts spinning after she kicks me hard in the head. I continue to stay still, struggling hard to breathe. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a blurry Shelley kneel beside my bleeding form. I can't move even if I wanted to.

"Are you ready to let go of your homosexual ways, faggot?"

I gasp for breath. I would totally lie and say yes, but if she ever found out, which she would, Kyle would be dead. Tears leak from my eyes, because the pain is so bad. "No, S-Shelley," I whisper weakly. "I can only be who I am."

A sneer crosses her beautiful face. "Have it your way, turd."

"AAAAH!"I scream in anguish as I feel something burn my skin. I feel like I'm being set on fire. Though my nose is bleeding, I can smell Shelley's cigarette mixed in with the blood. Shelley places the lit cigarette on different places on my marked up back. Kyle's voice rings in my head. ___She's just a girl._ A tear rolls down my face. I'm too much of a wuss to stand up to my sister.

"Don't forget to clean up your mess, turd."

Shelley's voice sounds so far away. I close my eyes. As I lose consciousness for the second time today, I wish with all my heart that I could die. I don't want to live anymore.

******Thanks for reading. Please review :)**


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Still not mine

******Affliction**

******Chapter 5**

******Kyle**

I push around my fish with my fork. I can't get myself to eat it. I'm more worried than hungry. Ike is jabbering about what he did at his friend's house, like anybody cares. I'm trying my best to ignore him. I have to figure out how to hypothetically ask my parents for advice.

"Buhbie," Mom says, directing her attention to me. "You're awfully quiet. Is something wrong?"

I take a sip of my milk. I choose my words carefully. "Mom, Dad. I have a hypothetical question."

Dad puts his utensils on his plate. "Sure, son."

"I, uh, have this paper for my Sociology class on child abuse. What would I do if I suspect child abuse?"

My parents glance at each other, making me wonder if they believe me or not. "The first thing you should do is report it to the police or a person of authority they trust." Mom says.

I push away my plate. There is no way I'll be able to eat anything else tonight. "But wouldn't that put the abused person in more danger?"

"Not if the abused person is with you."

I swallow the lump in my throat. "What if the abused person refuses to go to the police with me?" I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Ike clear the table please," Dad says. Ike scowls and starts grabbing our dirty plates. Dad turns his attention back to me. "If the child is under 18 you don't need his or her consent. The police will immediately remove the abused person from the dangerous household after an investigation."

"So," I say, a plan formulating in my head. "If, hypothetically, I went to the police because I suspected child abuse, I could without St- I mean the child's consent. And the child would be placed somewhere safe?" I cringe, hoping my parents didn't catch my stumble.

"That's right," Mom answers, bringing her and my father a cup of coffee. "But it wouldn't hurt if you had some evidence of the alleged child abuse. Child abuse is not a subject taken lightly, so if you suspect abuse, make sure you have evidence to back it up."

I nod mutely. Great. How am I going to get evidence if Stan refuses to go to the police with me? This is going to be harder than I thought.

KSK

Several hours later, I'm lying my bed staring at the ceiling. It's so late and I can't sleep. I keep thinking about the conversation I had with my parents during dinner. I can't help but wonder how I'm going to get proof that Stan's being badly abused.

An idea pops in my head. I sit up and get out bed. Quickly I grab my digital camera and place it in a small bag. Then I throw it over my shoulder. As quietly as I can, I sneak down the stairs and out the door. Cold air hits me like a slap in the face. I ignore the goosebumps on my flesh and pounding of my heart as I walk to Stan's house. Once I reach his house, I climb up the tree by his window, like I've done so many times before. I push the window open and enter his room.

Stan's room is dark and quiet. Sleeping soundly in his bed is my best friend in the whole world. I've known him for almost 14 years and I know he can sleep through almost anything. I flip the light beside his bed. Stan shifts, but doesn't wake up. I can't help but smile as I see him. His black hair falls over his eyes making him look sexier than ever. God, why do I keep thinking about him like that?

I focus back on the reason why I'm here: to get pictures of Stan's injuries. I get my camera out of my bag and silently walk over to his bed. His face is full of pain and covered in heavy bruises. I wonder how he is able to keep the bruises from showing during the day. I take a few pictures of his face. Luckily the flash doesn't wake him up. He's sleeping on his side, so I move to his back and pull the sheet off him carefully. Taking a deep breath, I lift up his shirt. His entire back is wrapped up in a see through white cloth. It takes all I have to keep myself from crying out because of what I see.

Stan's back is multi colored because it is covered in lashes, bruises, several cigarette burns, and scars. I can't find a single space on his back that isn't marked up. Some scars look old, others look like they just stopped bleeding. I knew Shelley was abusing him, but I had no idea it was this bad. Has she always been doing this to him? Or is it just recent?

I wonder why he didn't tell me that Shelley was hurting him this badly. Now that I think about it, for years he told me or I saw the abuse Shelley inflicted on him, but I didn't give a damn! I mentally kick myself for not listening to him all these years. No wonder he avoided telling me the truth. He doesn't trust me, and I don't blame him. From the multitude of scars on his body, he's lucky to still be alive. Mesmerized, I trace one of the scars that run from his shoulder blade down to the middle of his back. His body jerks in pain. It must be a recent scar. However, just touching his skin makes shivers run up and down my spine. I've never felt like this before. What is this feeling? It couldn't be...

Suddenly I feel him shift. I snap out of my pondering. I've got to get pictures of his back before he wakes up. Quickly I take several pictures up and down his back, making sure not to miss a single spot. I want to take pictures of his chest, but I don't think my stomach will be able to handle it. I was barely able to get a glimpse of his back without emptying the contents of my stomach.

Once I think I have enough pictures, I pull down his shirt and pull the covers over my best friend. I turn off the light. Stan is still sleeping soundly. Before I can stop myself, I caress his cheek lightly. His skin is so soft. I watch as he smiles in his sleep. I bend down until my lips are close to his ear. "I promise to get the abuse to stop, Stan," I whisper. "No matter what."

I put my camera in my bag. Before I leave through the window, I notice Stan's blue hat on the knob of his closet. Since I figure he won't miss it, I grab it and then leave through the window. I hurry back to my house and under the covers. My heart is pounding hard in my chest. I feel very shaky. I've got to make up for being such a horrible friend to him. I have to save him. I've got to convince him to go to the police with me. There is only one way I think I can do that: by telling him that if he doesn't go to the police then I will. Either way the abuse will be reported. After what seems like tossing and turning, I fall asleep, Stan's hat in my arms.

KSK

___I was standing all alone in the middle of a dark hallway. I wondered how I got here. On both sides of the walls were lockers. I must've been at school. I couldn't see anything. All the lights were off. There was complete silence, which was unnerving. An extremely nervous feeling swept through me. I had a bad feeling something was terribly wrong. What the hell is going on?_

___Suddenly the lights went on, almost blinding me. Stars winked in my eyes as I swayed on my feet, feeling dizzy. Once the world stopped spinning, I noticed a figure down the hall. Leaning against one of the lockers clad in black was my best friend, Stan Marsh. Even from a distance, I could tell something was wrong. I hurried over to him._

___Stan's clothes were ripped. I could see the heavy bruises and lashes on his skin, which was soaked in blood. I counted several stab wounds on his battered body. His face was chalky white, his breathing heavy. Stan's beautiful blue eyes partially open. He was barely alive. Tears filled my eyes as I saw how bad of shape he was in. "Oh, Stan," I whispered._

___Stan's knees started to give way. I grabbed him around the torso and helped him sit down. I wrapped my arms around him tight. My heart pounded in my chest, my palms all sweaty. I wondered why I had never done this before. "What happened?" I whispered._

___He didn't answer. Instead he laid his head on my shoulder and let out a painful sigh. My hand covered one of his stab wounds, hoping to stop the blood flow. I didn't care if I was getting all bloody. All I wanted to hold him and make the pain go away. Stan's chilled breath froze my neck. "Will you protect me?"_

___I hugged him tightly. "Always," I whispered. "I love you." My last words to him echoed in my brain. It was true. I did love him._

___After several minutes, I realized there was no movement from my best friend. I couldn't feel his breath on my neck anymore. I glanced at him. His eyes were closed. I felt his chest. No heartbeat. He was dead. I bowed my head in respect, the tears running down my face faster than I could handle. I had lost the most important person to me. The one I truly loved. I kissed his cheek lovingly. "Goodbye, Stan," I whispered. "I love you."_

I bolt up in my bed, gasping hard. What a fucked up dream! I wipe my sweaty brow. ___I love ____you_ continues to ring in my head. My eyes widen in realization, my jaw dropping. That's why I've been feeling so weird around Stan. The sweaty palms, the blushing, the feeling of wanting to protect him forever. I'm in love with him.

My hand clutches my racing heart, a small smile on my face. I'm crazy about him. No wonder Kenny always teasing us about being in love. I have always loved him. more than anything in the world. I was just too stupid to realize it. I wish he felt the same way, but I know he's straight.

Even though I know he doesn't love me, I am determined to save him from the abuse. I'd do anything for him. I hope I am able to save him in time. I lay back in my bed, smelling his hat. It smells so badly of Stan. I feel like he's right beside me. I fall back asleep, determined to convince him to go to the police with me and stop the abuse once and for all.

******Thanks for reading. Please review :)**


	6. Chapter 6

(A/N: Thank you guys for your wonderful feedback. It's made writing this story eve more fun! :) This chapter is a bit long. I hope you like it anyway)

Disclaimer: not mine

******Affliction**

******Chapter 6**

******Kyle**

Today has been the loneliest day of my life. Stan has been avoiding me all day, including not coming to lunch. I know he's here, because I've seen him in the halls. He must still be freaked out from what happened yesterday. I don't blame him. I've been freaking out about this situation too. It must be ten times worse for him. The only advantage of Stan's absence is I can talk about him to Butters and Kenny.

The noise of the other students fades out as Kenny, Butters and I hover over the lunch table, our empty lunch trays pushed aside. Scattered on the table are all the photos of Stan's injuries that I took last night. The reaction from my friends are as expected: horrified. However, it's nothing compared to how ___I_ felt when I actually ___saw_ his injuries.

"Shit dude," Kenny mumbles. "I had no idea he was suffering so much. I thought it was just a couple of scars."

I sigh in guilt. My hand is absentmindedly tracing a photo of Stan's heavily bruised shoulder. "So did I. I keep on kicking myself for not doing something about it years ago."

"What did your parents say?" Kenny asks, glancing at a photo of Stan's mutilated back.

"They said that if I suspect abuse that I should report it immediately to the police or another adult I trust. Dad said I can report the abuse with or without Stan's consent, because he's under 18. But if I am to do it without him, I should have some evidence. That's why I took the photos."

"When do you plan on going to the police?" Kenny asks.

"If I can talk him into it-straight after school. If not-first thing in the morning. With or without him."

"Why wait until morning?" Kenny asks.

"So he can have time to think about it."

Butters shifts around nervously. "I dunno, Kyle. I think you should report the abuse to the police a.s.a.p. He needs to get out of that house. Besides, you never know if Shelley would go too far the next time she beats him."

I sigh nervously. They're right, but I want to give Stan the option. I don't want to make him do something he's not wanting to do. I change the subject. Since they are my friends, and homosexuals themselves, I decide to tell them what else is bothering me. "Guys I have worse problems."

Kenny pushes the pictures aside. From the look on his face, I can tell he is unable to look at them any longer. "What's that?" he asks, putting his elbows on the table.

I put the pictures in my backpack, careful not to lose a single one. Then I lower my voice so that they are the only ones who can hear me. "I think... I'm in love with him."

A huge smile spreads across Kenny's face. He and Butters high five each other. "Finally!"

I roll my eyes. "Yeah, yeah. I know. You've been telling us that for years blah blah blah. But because of what happened yesterday I think he hates me. My love for him is unrequited."

"What does that mean?" Kenny asks in confusion.

"That means that Stan doesn't love him back." Butters answers quietly. "I'm sorry, Kyle," he adds.

Kenny rolls his eyes. "Of course he does. You two just need to get over yourselves and make out already!"

"Yeah right," I mumble.

The bell rings, signaling the end of lunch. I grab my bag, say goodbye to my friends, and head towards my AP Biology class. As I'm walking to class, I think about how I'm going to get Stan to listen to me.

******Stan**

The bell rings, ending my English class. "Now remember," my teacher Ms. Sharman says. "Your report on Romeo and Juliet is due tomorrow."

I grab my books slowly. I unfortunately have one more class then I'll be forced to go home and face Shelley. I take as long as possible to get to my locker. I keep my head down and avoid eye contact with everyone.

Today has been incredibly lonely. I've been making extra sure that I don't cross paths with Kyle. I have to keep him safe. I miss him more than anything. His presence is the only thing keeping me living. Once I think I've procrastinated long enough, I grab my books for my Algebra I class out of my locker. The halls are deserted. I wish the day would go longer. I don't want to go home.

Suddenly I feel arms wrap around my waist, making me drop my books in surprise. A hand clamps over my mouth to silence me. Before I can fight back, I'm pulled into another room. My heart is hammering in my chest in fear. Shelley is going to start hurting me at school now too.

My abductor throws me into the room. I land hard on the floor, pain shooting through my body. Mops and brooms fall on top of me. I must be in a closet. I hear the door shut and lock. I curl up in a tight ball on the ground. "M-make this quick, S-shelley. I have to get to class."

I feel a gentle hand on my shoulder. This isn't Shelley. "I'm not going to hurt you, Stan. I only want to talk to you."

Slowly, I lift my head from my arms. Kyle is leaning over me, a worried look on his face. I scramble to my feet, my blue eyes wide. I notice his freckled face is paler than usual. Though he looks worried, he looks so wonderful. I just want to forget everything and hold him tight in my arms. I want to tell him that I love him. Kyle's back is to the door. I have no way out. "What do you want?" I ask cautiously.

Kyle gives me reassuring smile. "I told you. I only want to talk to you."

"About what?" I ask, even though I can guess.

He takes his hat off and runs a hand through his red curls. Then he puts it back on. "Look. I know that Shelley is hurting you badly. You don't deserve to be treated this way. Please go to the police with me. Together we can get the abuse to stop and the justice you deserve."

I glare at him. "I've told you what Shelley's been doing to me for years. You didn't give a damn! Why is now so different?"

The bell rings, signaling that class has started. Kyle and I ignore it. I watch in astonishment and guilt as a tear rolls down his face. "You have every right to be angry with me. I should've done something about this years ago. But it's not too late. Please, buddy," his eyes are pleading. "Go to the police with me."

My heart hammers in my chest. I want to say yes so badly to him, but I'm concerned for his safety. I know what Shelley is capable of. He doesn't. "I can't," I whisper.

Kyle takes a step towards me. "You must understand that I am able to go to the police with or without you. The only way I can make sure if you're safe is if you come with me. So I'll ask you again: will you come to the police with me?"

I swallow the lump in my throat. I shake my head vigorously. Kyle unlocks the door behind him. "I'll give you time to think about it. Call me around 5 tonight with your final answer. Either way I'm going to the police tomorrow."

I want to beg, plead for him to not go to the police for his own safety, but I know I can't physically stop him. An idea pops in my head. There's one more thing I can do that might finally push him away. My heart pounding, I grab Kyle by the front of his shirt and pull him close to me. I kiss him passionately on the lips. Kissing my best friend is so amazing. His lips are so soft, so sweet. I push him away before he gets the chance to. I leave the janitor's closet. I pick up my books from the floor. I walk to class, a small smile on my face.

SKS

It's been a couple of hours since Kyle pulled me into the closet. I'm having a hard time making up my mind about going to the police with him or not. A part of me wants the abuse to stop so badly. Another part of me wants to keep Kyle safe. He doesn't realize how much danger he's putting himself in.

I'm sitting at the dining room table with my family eating leftover spaghetti. I'm having a hard time getting the food in my mouth. I'm still weak from this afternoon's beating. The way Shelley keeps sending me suspicious looks across the table, I can't help but feel like this is going to be my last meal.

"How was school today, Stanley?" My mother asks.

I look up from my spaghetti, adjusting the sunglasses on my face. I thought at first that my parents would've had me take them off during meals, but they didn't seem to care. My mother looks at me expectantly, waiting for an answer. I try my best to arrange my face to look normal. It's hard to do when every bone in my body hurts, I shrug my aching shoulders. "Fine."

"We haven't seen Kyle in a while," my father comments.

"We're not friends anymore," I say in a monotone voice, my eyes flickering to Shelley. If she thinks we're no longer friends, she won't have any reason to hurt him. When I call him tonight, if he's willing to answer the phone, I'll just have to get into a fight with him just in case she overhears. Shelley grits her teeth at me, unnoticed by our parents. No surprise there. They don't notice anything. I feel even more nervous. I don't think she believes me.

"That's too bad. You guys used to be so close," my mother comments.

"I know," I mumble, my eyes lowering back to my dinner.

My father places his hand on my shoulder. That simple touch sends pain signals through my body. It takes all I can manage not to cry out. "Son, you shouldn't let a good friendship slip through your fingers. You two should make up."

"K," I say quietly. I let out a small sigh of relief when he lets go of my shoulder.

I wish I could tell them the truth: that I hurt my best friend to keep him safe, that I'm gay and in love with Kyle. I meant to call him at five, but I was still recovering and cleaning from Shelley's afternoon beating. He's probably freaking out right now. I place my fork and knife on my plate and get up from the table. I start heading up the stairs. Unfortunately I'm in so much pain I can't move very fast. "Stanley, could you help me with the dishes please?" my mother asks before I can make it to the stairs.

I sigh then head back to the table. I clear the table and take the dishes to the kitchen. My mother comes into the kitchen behind me carrying the rest of the dishes. I take out a towel, prepared to dry the dishes. My mother fills the sink with soap and water and put the dishes in the sink. "Stanley, honey, if something was wrong….you'd tell us, right?"

I look at my mother in the face. Her face is paler than usual. Her forehead is full of worry lines. She looks ten years older than she really is. The brown depths of her eyes are full of concern and love. Yet those are the same eyes that ignored me when I told her that Shelley hurts me for years. I hate to say it, but I don't trust to tell her anything anymore. I look away and start drying the dishes. I don't answer.

She sighs miserably. "You father and I are very worried about you. Ever since your birthday you've been acting strange. I don't understand why you won't talk to us."

___Maybe it's because you don't believe a damn word I say_ I think bitterly to myself. I can't help but feeling a little bad for hurting my mother. I'm more angry than feeling guilty though. We finish washing the dishes in silence. Dad and Shelley come into the kitchen, looking at me with worried expressions. I know that Shelley's is false. She's not even that good of an actress. My parents are just stupid. "Stanley you may go now," my mother says, her voice strained.

As I hurry out of the room I can hear whispering. I bet they're talking about me. I wonder what bullshit lies Shelley is going to tell them now. I hurry up the stairs and to my room. I shut and lock the door behind me. I grab the cordless phone and punch in Kyle's number. My heart pounds, ready to give him my answer.

******Kyle**

I glance at my watch nervously for the millionth time. It's 8:30 PM and Stan still hasn't called. Did Shelley find out our plan? Did she kill him? I'm pacing around the living room, my hand absently running over my lips. The kiss he gave me this afternoon was wonderful. I just wish he gave me enough time to kiss him back. I stare at the phone nervously. ___Ring_. I beg the phone silently. ___Please ring_.

"Buhbie," my mom says from the kitchen. "What's going on?"

I love my mother, don't give me wrong, but this is something serious. The only adult I can trust when it comes to situations like this is Chef, but he's gone. "Nothing," I call back. I continue to pace, my heart pounding hard against my chest.

BRRRIIIIING!

The shrill sound of the phone scares me half to death. Before I can answer it, my mother does. "Kyle it's for you." She says from the kitchen.

Without bothering to answer, I bolt up the stairs, two at a time. I slam and lock the door behind me. I grab the cordless phone off of my desk. "H-hello?" I barely manage to choke out.

"Hey Kyle. It's me."

Relief, glorious relief sweeps through me just by hearing Stan's voice. "Dude, what took you so long to call?" I ask hysterically.

"I had a hard time getting away," he says quietly.

"You scared the shit out of me." I say, my hand clutching my still racing heart.

"Sorry."

I change the subject. It's time to get down to the root of the matter. "So, did you think about what I said?"

"Yes."

"So are you going to the police with me or not?"

Stan lets out a deep sigh from the other end. "I think this is a big mistake going to the police. You don't know what Shelley is capable of. But since I can't stop you, I guess… I'll go with you."

I let out a sigh of relief, but my stomach knots up in anxiety. ___I am doing the right thing_ I try to tell myself. I clear my throat forcing my anxieties down. "K. I think we should skip school and do it in the morning. I'll meet you at your house at 7:45."

"Okay," Stan says uneasily. I want to give him comforting words, but I don't have any. "I gotta go," he says quickly.

"Bye Stan." I hear a dial tone. "I love you," I whisper.

I hang up the phone and collapse on my bed. I hold Stan's hat tight in my arms, my friendship ring clutched in my hand. Even though Stan stopped wearing his, I still wore mine-to symbolize how much I care for him. My heart is pounding hard in my chest. ___I am doing the right thing_ I try to tell myself, before falling into an uneasy sleep. I hope I'm not putting Stan in more danger.

******Thanks for reading. Please review :)**


	7. Chapter 7

(A/N: WOW 40 reviews! You guys are AWESOME! Keep it up! I love you guys :) )

P.S. This is the revised version of this chapter, much better than what I had before. I hope you like it :)

Disclaimer: Still not mine.

******Affliction**

******Chapter 7**

******Stan**

I wake up with a splitting headache and my heart pounding hard against my chest. Every part of my body is throbbing. Today is the day. Today Kyle and I are going to the police. He's coming by my house at 7:45. Shelley usually beats me from 7:15-7:30 and I'm unconscious from 7:30-8:15. I'm just going to have to force myself to stay conscious when Kyle comes. I meant to tell Kyle to come an hour later, but I heard footsteps on the stairs and I didn't want to take a chance just in case Shelley was to overhear. I hope that I'm doing the right thing and that the police believe me. I'm ready for the abuse to stop.

I rise from my bed slowly. The world starts spinning fast from the pain. I sit back down on my bed and wait for the dizziness to pass. Once the world stops spinning I make my way to the bathroom, grabbing on anything I can reach in order to keep my balance. I'm pretty sure my foot is fractured from being thrown down the stairs yesterday. That and I'm too weak to walk on my own.

Going through my usual routine seems to take longer today. It's probably my nerves. I decide against putting on cover up or wearing my sunglasses. I'm not going to bother doctoring myself after she hurts me this morning either. It's just more proof of Shelley's abuse.

I don't say anything as I join my mother and sister at the table for breakfast. I keep my eyes lowered. My mother gasps in shock. "Stanley what happened?"

I don't even bother looking up. I know it's because of my face. After my shower, the bruises on my face stand out considerably and my black eyes are very evident. I know I look really bad. I give a nervous glance at my sister. Shelley runs a finger over her throat. I want to try one more time to tell my mother what really happened, but there's no point. She hasn't believed me for years, and she's not going to start now. "Nothing. I just got into a fight with Cartman yesterday," I fib, keeping my eyes focused on my cinnamon toast crunch.

My mother shakes her head. "How many times have I told you to not fight with people?"

I roll my eyes. "Whatever." I eat my cereal in silence. My mother grabs her purse from the kitchen table and kisses me on the forehead. "Have a good day guys," she says, kissing my sister's forehead also.

She shuts the door behind her. My hands shaking I grab my bowl and put it in the sink. I hear the garage door close. I feel my sister's presence behind me. For once I decide to defend myself. She might beat the living shit out of me for it, but at least people can't say I didn't try. The abuse is going to stop anyway. I whirl around and aim a punch at my sister.

Shelly grabs my wrist and twists it completely around. "AAAH!" I scream in agony as I feel my wrist break.

She forces my now broken wrist behind my back. "Nice try, little brother, but one measly little punch isn't going to stop me," she snarls in my ear. "That action almost caused your precious Kyle to die a very painful death. I'm going to be nice and let that slide. But that doesn't get ___you_ off the hook. I'm going to give you a beating you'll never forget."

The next thing I know I'm being dragged out of the kitchen and flung into the china cabinet. My body sears in pain as glass digs in my flesh. I try to get back up, but a chair is hit over my back, making me fall back on the ground.

Shelley grabs my bleeding form and slams it against the wall a few times. I struggle for breath. I don't bother screaming. I don't want to give her the satisfaction. She then throws me down the stairs. My head hits the cement floor so hard I almost pass out. The world is spinning in front of me. I feel like my head is cracked open.

I put up no resistance as Shelley drags me to the middle of the basement. It's getting harder and harder to breathe. I have a feeling that she's going to kill me this time. "AAAH!" I scream as the whip slices both sides of my face. While she's beating on me, I feel myself lose consciousness once again. I hope that if I wake up from this one that I will in time to go with Kyle to the police. Then my world turns black.

******Kyle**

My alarm goes of at 6:45 AM. I keep my eyes shut for a few moments. I had a hard time sleeping last night. All I could think about was Stan, the conversation we had last night, and the fact that I had decided before I fell asleep that I was going to tell him that I loved him. I'm 95% sure he loves me back because of the kiss he gave me yesterday, but I can't help feeling nervous. I've never confessed my feelings to anyone before. I've never felt so strongly about someone.

At 7AM I'm eating breakfast, my thoughts on Stan of course. I'm going over and over in my mind what I'm going to say to him. ___Stan, for the longest time I've loved_-no. ___Stan I love you with all my heart and I'm so happy that you're going to the police with me_-no. ___Stan we've been best friends for almost 14 years and I've just realized that I have romantic feelings for you. I want to be your boyfriend_-no. Jeeze what am I going to do? I'm so not ready for this.

Just as I'm just finishing up getting ready to meet Stan. Mom knocks on my bedroom door. "You better hurry, Buhbie. You're going to be late for school."

I don't answer. I grab my backpack and leave my house. I didn't bother telling her that Stan and I are skipping school to go to the police station. She'd never understand. I leave the house at 7:30, 15 minutes earlier than I told Stan I was coming, but I figure the earlier I get there, the better.

As I walk down the sidewalk towards Stan's, a bad feeling starts consuming me everywhere. Goosebumps run up and down my arms and I know it's not because of the cold. I feel shaky. Something doesn't feel right, but I can't figure out what it is. Maybe it's because I'm nervous about telling Stan how I feel about him. Or maybe it's something else. With the bad feeling increasing, I quicken my pace, my heart pounding so hard I feel like it's going to leap out of my chest, my palms are sweating.

Ten minutes later, I ring the doorbell, my foot tapping the ground nervously. No answer. I ring the doorbell again. No answer. Then it hits me like a ton of bricks. The bad feeling I have. Stan. Oh God, what if Shelley found out. Would she kill him? Luckily I know where the spare key is. I've seen Stan use it several times over the years. I reach under the welcome mat and pull out the small key.

I open the door. I drop my heavy backpack inside the house. "Stan?" I call. "What the-" I gasp.

The china cabinet is on the ground, glass everywhere. A pool of blood is on the ground as well. There is also dark red blood on the walls. Confirmation sweeps through me. Shelley found out. I hope with all my heart that Stan's still alive. Quickly I grab the phone off the wall and dial 911.

"911 what's your emergency?" a monotone voice says on the other end.

I struggle hard to keep my voice steady. "M-my best friend has been brutally attacked. 2001 Bonanza Street."

"I'll send help right away."

I hang up the phone. Now all I have to do is find out where he is. I notice the basement door is open. It looks out of the ordinary being open like that. Maybe he's down there. I rush down the stair, ignoring the wet substance that's getting on my shoes. My heart drops to my stomach because of the sight in front of me.

Blood everywhere: the floor, the walls, the stairs. Lying in the middle of the blood soaked basement, on his back is my best friend. He isn't moving. "HOLY SHIT!" I scream.

I rush over and kneel beside his body. I glance over him. His clothes are torn and covered in blood. I can tell already that he has at least three broken ribs. At least ten fresh lashes are on his chest. Glass istuck to his skin from the china cabinet. My eyes move to his face. I'm barely able to keep my breakfast down. Stan's face is heavily bruised and bloody. His nose is broken, or never fully healed. Lashes are on the sides of his face, blood running freely from the wound. His entire body is pale. He's not breathing.

Tears start to roll down my face faster than I can handle, but I don't care. I cradle Stan chilled body in my arms, not caring if I'm getting blood all over myself. This is all my fault. I should've gone to the police the SECOND I knew what was going on. I should've gone YEARS ago. I could've saved him.

Lying beside us is a long whip, stained in blood. That must be where all the lashes on him came from. Seeing Shelley's weapon of choice makes this even more real.

Suddenly an unfamiliar voice is calling from upstairs, making me snap out of my pain. "Hello? Is anyone here? This is the paramedics!"

I choke back a sob. "D-down here!"

The paramedics rush down the stairs, carrying a stretcher. One of them feels Stan's neck. "Barely has a pulse. We need to get him to the hospital NOW!"

The paramedics take Stan out of my arms, but I don't notice. The words of the paramedic ring in my head. ___Barely has a pulse._ That means he's still alive! I get up quickly as the paramedics load Stan on the stretcher. I've got to go too. "Can I ride to the hospital with you? H-he's my best friend."

The young paramedic nods in approval. I follow them out of the house and in the ambulance. After the paramedics hook Stan up to the machines I grasp his cooled hand and hold it tight. "I'm here, Stan," I whisper, not caring if he can't hear me. The ambulance is too loud to hear anything anyway. "I'm not leaving."

We reach the hospital in no time. The paramedics rush Stan out of the ambulance. The driver tells me to wait in the waiting room. I thank him and get out of the ambulance. Before I enter the hospital, I dig in my pockets for change. I've got to call my mother and let her know where I am. I know Stan's going to be in surgery for a long time because of all he's suffered. I need some comfort and I can't reach Kenny or Butters at school. Besides I need a new set of clothes-mine are covered in blood. I pick up the payphone, enter 50 cents and dial my home number. As I listen to the phone ring, my heart races in anxiety once again. I'm so scared I can barely breathe.

"Broflovski residence," my mother chirps.

"Mom, it's me," I try to say in a normal voice. It's not working.

"Kyle what's wrong? Why aren't you at school," mom asks in a slightly angry voice.

Right now school is the furthest thing from my mind. "I'm at the hospital."

"At the hospital? What happened?" My mother's voice changes from angry to hysteria.

I can't hold it back any longer. I break down, the sobs altering my speech. "I f-found Stan half dead in his basem-ment."

My mother gasps. "Oh God. Buhbie you're father and I will be right there."

I hang up the phone and enter the hospital. I forgot to ask her for a change of clothes, but that's not important. I slump in a vacant chair, my head in my hands. As I close my eyes all I can see is the bloody basement and my marked up best friend. I don't think I'll ever sleep right again. As I'm waiting for news from the doctor, I pray with all my heart that Stan will pull through.

******Thanks for reading. Please review :)**


	8. Chapter 8

(AN: Sorry about the delay guys. My computer was kind enough to get a virus yesterday so that's what I've been dealing with the past couple of days. Anyway I hope you like this chapter)

Disclaimer: Don't own South Park

******Affliction**

******Chapter 8**

******Kyle**

It's been an hour since Stan and I were brought to the hospital. I haven't heard any news on his condition. I'm not surprised. From what he's suffered, I figure it's going to be a long time before I hear anything. Mom and Dad arrived ten minutes after I called. They've been very supportive and I appreciate that. They didn't ask me any questions or for details. They didn't want to push me, which is good. I've been crying so much I haven't been able to get a word out.

My head is still buried in my hands. My mother has her arm around my shoulder which is comforting. My dad has been pacing the waiting room. I try hard to hold back the sobs, but it's impossible. Every time Stan's beaten body flashes in my mind, more sobs escape from my throat. I will never forgive myself if he doesn't make it.

"Kyle Broflovski?"

I lift my head. Two men stand in front of me. I recognize them as Detective Harris and Murphy. I remember working with them a few times when Stan, Kenny, Cartman and I played detectives all those years ago. "Y-yes?" I manage to choke out.

One of them sits down on the other side of me. "We understand you are the one who found the victim." Detective Harris says gently. "Are you able to tell us what happened?"

"I'm not sure he's ready for that," my mother says sternly, her arms till around me. My father stops pacing and comes over to us.

"No Moth-mother," I choke out. "It's okay. I c-can tell them."

My mother squeezes my shoulder in support. I take a deep breath and begin my story. "I l-left my house around 7:30 t-to meet Stan at his house. We w-were going to skip school and g-go to the police."

"Why were you going to the police?" my mother asks in surprise, glancing at my father as if he'd know. I'm relieved that they're not angry about us skipping school.

A fresh tear rolls down my face. "I figured out that he was being abused. Badly. I care so much for him. I couldn't stand it any longer. S-so I convinced him to go to the police with me.

I-I arrived at his house around 7:40. I r-rang the doorbell twice, b-but no answer. I h-had a bad feeling that something horrible happened, so I used the spare key under the welcome mat and let myself in.

I s-saw the china cabinet on the ground, glass and blood everywhere. I k-knew something bad happened to him so I called 911. T-then I found him in the b-basement. It was horrible," I choke on my last words, burying my head in my hands. Mom rubs my back soothingly.

"Does Stan have any enemies?" Detective Harris asks.

I wipe my face with my hand. I want Stan to have justice whether he makes it or not. If he pulls through I would be SO very happy. "His sister, Shelley," I whisper. "She's been beating the crap out of him for as long as I can remember."

"Why didn't you report the abuse sooner?" Detective Murphy asks me. "Why did you wait so long?"

"I wish I had!" I sob hysterically. "I wish I had reported the abuse YEARS ago! But I honestly didn't think she was hurting him that badly. I'm such a h-horrible best friend."

Mom rocks me back and forth. "No sweetheart," she says gently. "It's not your fault. You called 911 before you found him. You saved his life."

"If he survives." I mumble.

"Kyle, you can't give hope," my dad says, speaking for the first time since he and Mom got here.

Suddenly I remember the digital camera. I turn my attention back to the two detectives. "At Stan's house I left my bag there. Inside are several pictures of Stan's back and my digital camera. I snuck in his room the other night and took pictures. I needed evidence just in case he refused to go to the police with me."

The detectives nod. Before anybody can say anything else a hysterical voice breaks through the silence. "KYLE!"

We all look up. Stan's parents are hurrying over to me. "What happened?" Mr. Marsh demands. Mrs. Marsh is completely in tears just like me.

Before I can say anything, another voice breaks the silence. "Mr. and Mrs. Marsh?"

Standing right behind Stan's parents in a white lab coat and a chart in her hand is a young doctor with long brown hair and a serious expression on her face. "My name is Dr. Sara Joehnk."

Mr. Marsh clutches on tightly to Mrs. Marsh. "W-what happened to our son?" he stumbles.

"He was badly beaten and from what I can tell this has been going on for a long time. He suffered a concussion, five broken ribs, a fractured ankle, broken wrist, and countless lashes on his body from what looks like a whip. He lost more than half of his blood. If this young man didn't find him when he did, Stan would've drowned in his own blood."

I shudder as the image flashes in my mind. Stan's parents gasp. Mrs. Marsh sobs harder. "What are his chances?" I ask quietly, ignoring everybody's eyes on me.

The doctor hesitates, but I stare at her defiantly, desperate for an answer. She sighs. "Not good. His condition is unstable. He has approximately 24-48 hours"

A fresh tear rolls down my face as I accept the painful truth. Stan is going to die. It's all my fault. I notice that the detectives have led the Marshes to another corner. I turn my attention back to the doctor. She's looking at me sympathetically. She probably knows how much he means to me. I swallow the lump in my throat. "C-can I see him?"

She nods. "I'll get you fresh clothes since yours is covered in blood, then I'll show you where to go."

I had forgotten that I was still covered in blood-his blood. It doesn't matter now. The only thing that matters is seeing my best friend.

SKS

Ten minutes later, I'm in Stan's room in the ICU with my parents wearing hospital clothes. I refuse to leave Stan's side ever again. I'm sitting in a chair, next to his hospital bed, his IVed hand in my own. I can't help but stare at him.

Stan is lying there hooked up to several machines. A ventilator is breathing for him. His body is lying on the bed completely bandaged up. His face is swollen, purple, yet chalky white. He has bandages on his face where Shelley whipped him. The heart monitor is beeping so slowly that I keep thinking he's dead. He's barely hanging on.

"Kyle, honey, your father and I will be in the cafeteria. You want us to bring you anything?" My mother asks. I bet she just can't stand being in the room any longer. I don't blame her.

I shake my head. Once my parents are gone I reach over and stroke Stan's pale face gently. My thoughts are running through me like a fast river. I wish I was in his place instead. I'd rather die than see him suffer so much. I close my eyes, not wanting to look at his pale form anymore. "I'm sorry, Stan," I whisper. "I should've gone to the police years ago. I could've prevented this from happening. This is all my fault and I don't blame you if you never forgive me. All I ask is that you come back. I need you so badly. I'm begging you. Please don't leave me!"

I fall into an uneasy sleep, hoping with all my heart that he will be awake when I come back from the land of haunting dreams

******Kenny**

I'm sitting in Spanish class bored out of my mind. Ms. Yamen is going on and on about what I think is pronouns. I don't really give a rat's ass. By the way she teaches, I doubt I'm going to pass anyway. I outline the light blue heart on my paper. Inside the heart are the initials BS.

I glance over at my blonde boyfriend to find he's staring at me. I grin at him and give him a wink. A blush appears on his face. I want to tackle him to the ground and have my way with him right now. I guess you know what I'll be doing after school.

"MISTER McCormick! MISTER Stotch!" Ms. Yamen's annoying voice says. Oh great. She's going to yell at us. "Principal Simmons wants to see you two in his office. NOW!"

Goddamnit! Now we have to go to the principal's office. Butters and I rise from our seats and walk out of the room together. "Aw why did you have to get me into trouble, Kenny," Butters whines. "My parents are going to ground me!"

I roll my eyes. I throw an arm over his shoulders and pull him closer to me. "Don't worry Butter-ball. Even if they do ground you, I'll still love you."

"Aww shucks. I love you too."

We enter the principal's office. Right off the bat I can tell something is very wrong. Both of our parents are here along with a detective. Principal Simmons gives us a reassuring smile. "Come in boys. You're not in trouble. Detective Harris has a few questions about your friend, Stan."

From the look on everybody's faces, I can tell something bad has happened. We sit down uneasily, knowing that we're not going to like what we're about to hear. "What happened?" I demand shrilly.

I feel my dad's hand on my shoulder in support. The detective sighs wearily. "He was found nearly beaten to death in his basement this morning."

"Oh my God," I whisper. My heart is thudding against my chest. I knew Kyle shouldn't have waited to go to the police. At the same time he's my friend too. I should've done something to prevent this "Is he okay?" I manage to choke out.

"The doctor doesn't think so. He's in critical condition at the hospital."

"Oh shit," I mumble under my breath.

"Do you have any idea who would do this to him?" the detective asks us.

"His sister, Shelley," I answer without hesitation. "We've seen her beat the crap out of him before. We didn't know how bad it was until Kyle showed us pictures of his back."

I glance at Butters. He has stayed silent the whole time, tears running down his face. I don't blame him. I'm having a hard time holding my back. Since our parents know about our relationship, I feel no shame in grabbing Butters' hand and squeezing it tightly. I think about Kyle. He must be losing it right now.

"C-can we see him?" Butters asks, speaking for the first time since we've been called into the office.

Our parents nod solemnly. We hurry out of the school and towards the hospital. I know that Stan and Kyle are going to need all the support they can get.

******Thanks for reading. Please review :)**


	9. Chapter 9

(A/N: My computer is still acting up, so I decided to be nice and go to the school library and put up the next chapter. Plus I feel like I've made you guys squirm enough :) Anyway I hope you like this chapter. Please review.)

Disclaimer: Nope, not mine

******Affliction**

******Chapter 9**

******Kenny**

"Will the defendant please rise?" Butters and I watch as Shelley and her lawyer stand. Butters and I hold our breath. "On the sole count, assault in the first degree, how do you find?"

The representative for the jury looks at the judge importantly. "Guilty."

"On the second count, attempted murder in the first degree, how do you find?"

"Guilty."

Butters and I sigh in relief. Sitting next to us and our parents are Mr. and Mrs. Marsh. At first they defended Shelley, but as the evidence stated to pile up against her, they finally realized the truth. Mrs. Marsh is sobbing hard, while Mr. Marsh holds her close. "Oh Randy. Stanley tried to tell us what was happening, but we didn't listen. It's all our fault!"

"I know Sharon. I know."

"Members of the jury you are excused and I thank you for your service." The jury leaves. The judge turns back to Shelley. Tears are on her face. "Shelley Lynn Marsh, I sentence you to 10 years in prison. We are adjourned."

"But I didn't do it!" Shelley screams in anguish. "I swear I'm innocent! You guys are all framing me!"

The court policemen grab Shelley and drag her out of the courtroom, as she struggle and continues to scream. My eyes are wide in horror. She's really messed up. At least she's getting what she deserves.

We file out of the courthouse. "Come on," I say grabbing Butter's hand. "Let's go to the hospital and give Kyle the good news."

As we pile in Mr. and Mrs. Stotch's car, I think about everything that's been going on. To the surprise of everyone, it's been almost a month and Stan is still hanging on. There has been no change in his condition, which is both good and bad. The longer Stan hangs on, the worse Kyle gets. He only left the hospital once since Stan was brought in. That was only to testify in court against Shelley. Then he went straight back to the hospital. His parents tried to get him to come home, but he caused such a ruckus that the doctor said he could stay. He barely eats or sleeps anymore. Every day after school, Butters and I go to the hospital to support our friends.

The Stotches drop us off at the hospital. Butters and I enter the elevator to the hospital. The elevator won't go fast enough. Butters and I can't wait to give Kyle the news. I'm sure this would give him some sort of relief.

We reach the door to the ICU. I pick up the phone on the wall and dial Stan's ICU number. A nurse from the other end answers. "Hello?"

"We're here to see Stan Marsh in room 304," I say as clearly as I can.

"One moment."

I hang up the phone. A beeping noise is heard and the huge doors swing open. I wrap my arm around Butters' waist. He's holding Kyle's assignments. We've been collecting them so Kyle won't fall behind. I highly doubt he's cracked a book open though.

"Oh dear," Butters says softly.

I look in the direction that he's pointing. I see what he means. Kyle's eyes are barely open, dark bags under his eyes. His skin is pale and he looks like he's lost at least ten pounds. If he doesn't watch it he'll be in the hospital too.

I swallow back my fear. "Hey Kyle."

Kyle's head snaps up. He forces a grin on his face. "Oh, hey guys."

"How is he?" I ask carefully.

Kyle sighs miserable, his hand caressing Stan's. "The same. Not worse, not better."

"And how are you, Kyle?" Butters asks nervously.

He shrugs his shoulders mechanically, his eyes back on the motionless Stan. "I'm okay."

I forget all about telling Kyle the good news about Shelley. I'm more concerned about his health. "When was the last time you ate?" I ask.

Kyle ponders. "This morning, I think."

"Come on, dude," I urge, like I have been the past couple of weeks. "Let us buy you some dinner. You really need to eat something."

Kyle raises an eyebrow. "With what money?" I choose not to retort since I'm finally seeing a small smirk creep on his face.

I roll my eyes. "You need to get out of this hospital room. Staying cooped up in here isn't good for your health."

A long pause. "No. No, I can't leave."

"Well, what if Kenny and I brought you something to eat?" Butters asks quietly.

Kyle smiles softly. "Thanks, but no thanks. I'm not hungry." He turns his attention back to his unconscious best friend.

The atmosphere in the room is almost too much for me to bear. I squeeze Kyle's shoulder in support. "Take care, dude."

Kyle doesn't respond. I take Butters by the hand. "Come on," I say quietly, leading him away.

We enter back into the elevator. I watch as tears run down Butters' face. "I'm so worried about them, Kenny."

I hug him tightly. "I know, babe. I am too."

BKB

___The next afternoon, Butters and I were sitting in the hospital cafeteria. We weren't eating the full trays on the table. We were both nervous and depressed. Stan's condition had gone from bad to worse. As Stan's health deteriorated, so did Kyle's emotional state. In the last 24 hours, Kyle started to look frail and weak. We knew it was because of the lack of food and will to live. No matter how hard anybody tried, he refused to leave Stan's side._

"___Kenny?" Butters asked quietly, breaking me from my thoughts. "D-do you think Stan will get better?"_

___I sighed heavily."I don't know," I answered honestly._

___Butters pushed his tray aside. I did the same. Like him I didn't have an appetite, which was unusual for me. I glanced at my boyfriend. His normally sparkling blue eyes dull. His usually sunny face was gone and instead full of worry. I imagined that I looked the same to him. Stan's attack had affected us all. Kyle the most. "I can't eat anymore," Butters said sadly. I didn't even bother to mention that he didn't eat anything. I didn't either._

___I nodded, then pulled out a paper bag from my pocket. I placed the food in the bag to save for later. "Come on. Let's check on them."_

___We took the elevator back up to the third floor. We walked in silence to the ICU room. I was startled to see all the adults surrounding a sobbing Mrs. Marsh. Mr. Marsh had his arms around her, tears running down his face. We ran up to them. "What the hell happened?" I demanded frantically, though I could guess._

___The adults looked up at us, sorrow on their faces. "Stanley has joined God in Heaven," Randy said softly, hugging Sharon tightly._

___"Oh no!" Butters gasped._

___I lowered my head, tears rolling down my face. I hugged Butters tightly against me. I looked at all the adults. All of them were comforting each other. As I glanced at the grieving adults, I realized who was missing. Kyle. My heart thudded in my chest. I looked at the Broflovskis. Gerald was holding Sheila in his arms. Ike had his head buried in his hands, sitting on the floor, by his parent's feet. "Where's Kyle?" I asked suddenly._

___Gerald shrugged his shoulders. "He ran off after Stan...passed. He needs to cope with this. Maybe you should go comfort him. He needs a friend right now."_

___"Sorry Butters," I said softly, pushing him away slightly._

___Then I bolted down the stairs and out the hospital. As I ran, I tried to think where he would go. All I knew was I had to find Kyle and fast! As I ran, I tried to think about where he would go. An idea popped in my head. The clubhouse! It was where Stan and Kyle hung out most of the time. In five minutes I arrived at Stan's house, but it felt like hours. I pulled the latch on the fence and entered Stan's backyard._

"___Kyle!" I called frantically, running as fast as I could. God, I hoped I wasn't too late. I climbed up the clubhouse. My heart dropped to my stomach because of what I saw._

___Kyle was sitting in the clubhouse. His face was pale and tear stained. In his lap was Stan's blue hat. He was pressing a gun against his chest, over his heart. "Kyle!" I cried again._

___Kyle opened his green eyes. From a distance, his eyes looked different. "Kenny," he said in a dull, broken voice._

___"Kyle, don't do this!" I begged him. "Stan wouldn't want that!"_

___Kyle didn't even look at me. I couldn't move a muscle. Kyle's broken voice kept me rooted to the spot. "Stan is dead. I couldn't save him. Should've listened."_

___"Kyle," I said gently, taking a small step toward him. My heart clenched in my chest as Kyle pressed the gun harder against his chest. "You did what you thought was best to save Stan. It's not your fault. You didn't kill him. Shelley did. I know how much you love him. I know how much he loved you. Don't do this!"_

___Tears started flowing down his face, twisting my heart. "H-he loved me?" I nodded, taking another step towards my unstable friend. "H-he loved me and I c-couldn't save him. Goodbye Kenny."_

**__****BANG!**

___I shrieked as the sounds of the gunshot startled me. I ran over and dropped to Kyle's ____bleeding form. My hand covered his wound, desperate to stop the blood flow. No heartbeat. He was dead. _Geeze___I thought to myself in anguish. The tears were flowing down my face faster than I could handle. My worst nightmare had come true. I had lost two of my three friends. I was too late to save both of them._

___My eyes caught sight of a white bottle next to his pale hand. Tylenol. It was empty. I realized what must have happened: Kyle took all the pills to lessen the pain of the gunshot. I curled up in a ball and started sobbing. The pain in me was unbearable. I wish Butters was here with me right now. He could lessen the pain. I just didn't understand how life could go from great to downright hell. I wish I could die too._

___KBK_

I feel myself being shaken. What the hell? I open my eyes. Butters is shaking me. I rub my eyes. "Where am I?" I ask groggily.

"At the hospital, remember. You wanted to stay longer tonight just in case there's news," Butters says.

My heart pounding, I realize that I was just having a horrible nightmare. I'm leaning against the waiting room wall. That means Stan and Kyle are both still alive. I hope so anyway. I yawn and stretch. "Well is there news?" I ask sleepily.

Butters smiles at me. "Yes. Stan is awake!"

******Thanks for reading. Please review :)**


	10. Chapter 10

(A/N: WOW! 66 reviews! You guys are AWESOME! I'm SO glad you all love this story so much. I appreciate all of your support :))

Disclaimer: Not mine

******Affliction**

******Chapter 10**

******Stan**

I open my eyes slowly, pain vibrating from every inch of my body. Once the world stops spinning I am able to focus on my surroundings. The room is bright white. This is definitely not the basement. Where the hell am I? The last thing I remember is Shelley slashing my face with her whip.

My body is throbbing like hell. I feel as though I had been run over by a truck. I try to speak, but my mouth is block by some tubes. Air from the tubes fills up my lungs.

I look around. Machines are everywhere. Sitting next to me fast asleep is my best friend. He looks awful. His red hair is disheveled and has dark bags under his eyes. He looks like he hasn't eaten in weeks. I want to get his attention, but how am I going to do that?

Suddenly I notice something stroking my hand gently. My heart leaps in my throat feeling Kyle's touch. Using all the strength I have, I squeeze his hand as hard as I can.

Kyle's eyes fly open. He rubs the sleep out of his eyes adorably. If I didn't have those damn tubes in my mouth I would've smiled. He rubs his hand. I didn't think I squeezed that hard. At least I was able to get his attention. I wait patiently for him to notice me.

His green eyes meet my blue ones. "Stan! You're awake!" he cries happily. "How are you feeling?" I stare at him, trying to communicate with my eyes. He smiles at me. "I'm glad you made it."

Kyle reaches over and presses a small button by my bedside. Unconsciously I stroke his hand, which is still clutching onto mine tight. The fact that he's here makes me feel less pain, less scared. A woman with short black hair and dazzling green eyes comes into the room. "Olivia he woke up," Kyle says happily.

She smiles. "Is that so?"

The pretty woman comes over and makes notes on her clipboard. I tug on her sleeve then point at my mouth. I want to get the damn tubes out of me. "I think he wants to say something," Kyle says.

I sigh inwardly. Close enough. The woman pats my shoulder gently. "Don't worry, honey. You'll get those tubes our when you'll be able to breathe on your own. In the meantime I'll get you a whiteboard to write on."

A moment later, I'm propped up slightly, a small whiteboard in my lap. "Where am I?" I scribble on the board then show it to him.

"You're in the hospital," Kyle says quietly.

The hospital? That explains why I'm connected by tubes and machines are everywhere. And the lady with the clipboard mus be my nurse. I wipe away my previous question and replace it with a new one. "How did I get here?"

Kyle swallows hard. "I found you nearly beaten to death in your basement. So I called 911. It's amazing you're alive at all."

"How long have I been out?" I scribble.

"Almost a month."

Wow. Shelley really did hurt me bad then if I had to be placed in the hospital. I wonder where she is now, and at the same time I don't want to know. The fact that she might be still out there is scaring me to death. I'm about to write and ask Kyle when three people enter the room. My parents and the young nurse from before. My mother is crying. "Oh S-Stanley! You pulled t-through. It's a miracle!"

"How are you feeling, son?" my dad asks.

I roll my eyes. Why do people keep asking me that? I lying in a hospital bed attached to millions of machines How do they THINK I'm feeling? My mother grasps my hand. I notice Kyle isn't holding the other one anymore. "W-we're so sorry we d-didn't listen to y-you."

Anger builds up inside me. It's about damn time they realize I'm telling the truth! It only took until I was near death. I wrench my hand from her grip, ignoring the hurt look on her face. I scribble furiously on the whiteboard.

"You assholes! I've been telling you the truth for YEARS! Instead it took you until I was nearly beaten to death for you to finally believe me. I HATE you! Get the fuck out!"

Mom bursts into tears again. Dad looks at me sadly, then leads Mom out of the room. I feel angry and a little guilty at the same time. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Kyle about to leave. I grab his arm.

He turns around. Tears are on his face. He probably thinks my outburst was directed towards him. Holding onto his arm, I scribble on the whiteboard. "Stay, please."

Kyle sits back down, tears on his face. "I'm sorry," I write. "That outburst wasn't directed towards you."

"But I'm guilty too. I was so stupid not doing anything about it for all these years. Because of my idiocy I almost lost you."

I squeeze his hand. I find that I'm not angry at him, because he saved my life. "You didn't lose me. If anything, you saved me." A tear rolls down my face as I remember how badly I've been treating him the past month. I don't deserve to have him as a best friend anymore, much less a lover. I want to tell him why I hurt him so much, but I don't want to risk his life just in case Shelley's still out there. Kyle must've read my mind.

"Don't worry, Stan. Shelley was found guilty on both assault and attempted murder. The judge sentenced her to 10 years in prison. She can't hurt you anymore."

Relief, glorious relief sweeps through me from head to toe. Shelley is in prison. She can't hurt me anymore. I'm finally safe. I close my eyes, feeling sleepy. My outburst has taken a lot of energy out of me. I need to rest and build my strength up again. I can apologize and tell Kyle the whole truth later.

Kyle must've noticed my lack of energy. He helps me lie down and tucks me in. "Sleep well, Stan. You're safe now. I'll be here when you wake up."

Kyle kisses my forehead, sending chills up and down my spine. For the first time since my birthday, I fall into a sleep free of worry and pain.

SKS

******Kenny**

We knock on the door to Stan's ICU room. After my horrible dream, Butters and I grabbed some real food. Now we're full and ready to visit our friends. Kyle looks up from a book. It looks like he's finally starting on the homework we brought for him. He grins widely at us. "Hey dudes."

"How is he doing?" I ask.

The atmosphere in the room is better than it has been since Stan's been brought in. The heart monitor is beeping steadily and the color is back in Stan's face. "He's fine," Kyle says happily. "He fell asleep an hour or so ago. He's getting his rest."

"Good," Butters says happily.

Though Kyle looks much happier, he still looks worn out. He'd most likely refuse, but I've go to try. "Kyle, you ought to go home and sleep for a couple of hours. Get something to eat. That way you'll be looking good for him when he wakes up again," I say, giving him a wink.

His freckled face flushes. "No. I can't leave Stan alone. I promised to be there when he wakes up. I want to keep him safe."

"Don't worry. He won't be alone. We'll stay with him until you come back. I promise." Since it's Friday, I don't have to worry about school tomorrow. I'm able to stay for as long as I need to.

Kyle starts to protest, but then his stomach rumbles. He smiles at us. "All right. I need a shower anyway. Promise you'll take good care of him?"

I hold my hand up to my head in the form of a salute. "I promise."

He smiles at us, puts down his book and leaves the room. The fact that Stan is alive and Kyle is finally going to take care of himself lifts a heavy burden off my shoulders. Everything is going to be all right.

KBK

"Gin," I say happily, laying my cards down. I grin evilly at my opponent. "Read 'em and weep."

Butters glances at my cards, then sighs. "Aww hamburgers. You beat me again."

I rub his head affectionately. "I can't help it that I'm good both in bed and in cards."

Butters blushes scarlet, and I notice he's looking past me. I follow his gaze. Stan's blue eyes are open. He's awake. I grin at him sheepishly. He must've heard what I just said. He's holding a whiteboard toward us. "Sick, dude. Is sex the only thing you think about?"

I grin. "Not always. But most of the time."

Stan rolls his eyes. He scribbles on his whiteboard then shows it again to us. "Where's Kyle?"

"He went home to get something to eat and take a shower, and I hope a couple of hours of sleep. Poor guy hasn't left the hospital since you've been brought in. ___I _think he's trying to spruce himself up for you."

Stan looks sad all of a sudden. "He doesn't like me like that."

Butters and I exchange annoyed glances. "Here we go again," Butters mutters.

"If Kyle didn't love you he wouldn't have stayed by your bedside for 24/7. He sure as hell wouldn't have been holding your hand. It's obvious. He loves you!"

Stan still doesn't look convinced. I shake my head. Stan and Kyle are perfect for each other. They just need to get over themselves and make out already. I change the subject. "You need anything?"

"Besides getting out of the hospital? No. Thanks though."

I smile. "Okay, dude, but if you need anything let us know. We'll stick around until Kyle gets back."

"Thanks guys." Stan sits up a little straighter. He scribbles on the whiteboard. "In the meantime deal me in."

I grin and start dealing out the cards again.

******Thanks for reading. Please review :)**


	11. Chapter 11

(An: 66 reviews to 88? I am beyond thrilled. You guys are so wonderful and I love you dearly. :) Hope you enjoy this chapter.)

******Affliction**

******Chapter 11**

******Stan**

"Now I'm going to count to three then I will pull the tube out," Dr. Joehnk instruct kindly.

All I can do is nod. It's only been 24 hours since I've woken up. Dr. Joehnk said that I recovered so fast that I'm now able to breathe on my own. I can't wait to be able to talk again. I'm sick of using the whiteboard.

"We're right here, buddy," Kenny says in reassurance, Butters by his side. I wish Kyle was here, but from what I've seen and what my friends have told me, he needs to get this rest. I understand. His well being is more important than mine.

"1…2…3."

I gag and wretch as the tube comes out of my throat. Once it's completely out of my throat I suck in a huge breath on my own. It feels so good to breathe properly again. "Great job, Stan," Butters says in encouragement.

I grin at my friends. "Thanks," I whisper hoarsely.

Olivia sticks her head in the door. "Stan, your parents are here to see you."

My eyes light up. The past couple of hours, I've been doing a lot of thinking. Even though my parents never believed me, I still love them dearly. I figure all of Shelley's bullshit lies got through their gullible minds. It's going to take a while before they earn my trust, but now that Shelley is put away, I feel like I can give them the chance. "Go ahead and let them in."

"We'll be right outside if you need us," Kenny says, squeezing my shoulder. Then he takes Butters' hand and leaves just as my parents enter my room. Both of them look like they haven't slept in weeks. They're eyes are red and have bags under them.

"Hi son," my father says carefully. "You're looking much better."

Even though I'm still in a lot of pain, I pull myself into a sitting position. "Thanks. I feel much better."

My mother hesitates before she speaks. "Stanley, you have every right to be angry with us. We should've listened to you from the beginning. We're so very sorry. It's up to you if you want to forgive us or not, but never forget that we'll always love you, no matter what."

I look at my parents steadily. "You guys may have broken my trust, but I still love you, Mom and Dad. I'm willing to let you earn it again." I say quietly.

Happiness and relief washes over their faces. My parents walk over and throw their arms around me. I relax in their embrace, feeling confident. Things just might go back to normal. The only thing that would make my life perfect is if Kyle loved me.

******Kyle**

I leave the hospital elevator a huge smile on my face. I feel better than I have in a long time. After sleeping almost 12 hours straight, a nice hot shower, and a decent meal I'm all refreshed and ready to see Stan again. Just being apart from him for 12 hours has made me desperate to see him.

I knock on his door. "Come in."

I enter the room, my heart rising in my throat. Stan is sitting up reading a comic. He looks so much better than the last time I saw him. The tubes are out of his throat, meaning he's able to breathe on his own. Almost all the bruises on his face are gone, and the scars from Shelley's whip have slightly faded also. "Hey, dude. How are you feeling?"

He closes his comic and grins at me. "Much better now that you're here. You're much better company than those nerdos," he says jerking his head at a sleeping Kenny and Butters.

I roll my eyes. Some bodyguards those two turned out to be. Stan scoots over and pats the spot next to him. I walk over and sit next to him on the bed. We hug for a very long time. My heart thuds in my chest having him so close to me. I long to tell him that I love him with all my heart, but I'm still afraid. We pull apart and look away.

"So when did they take the tubes out?" I ask.

"This morning."

"Oh."

An uncomfortable silence falls between us. I can't hold back my feelings any longer. I have to tell him that I love him. I jut have to figure out how.

******Stan**

The silence between my best friend and I is almost too much for me to bear. I have to tell him the truth about everything: why Shelley started hurting me in the first place, my sexual orientation, and my deep feelings for him. I take a deep breath, but refuse to look at him.

"Kyle, I'm sorry I didn't tell you what was going on. I know that my silence has been hurting you a lot."

"It's not your fault. I ignored the situated so long, I understand why you didn't trust me."

I meet his gaze. "It's not that I didn't trust you, I was trying to protect you."

Surprise flashes in his green eyes. "Protect me? From what?"

I swallow the lump on my throat and take a swig from the water bottle by my bedside. My throat still hurts from the tube, but I don't care. I have to get this all out. "From Shelley. She threatened that if I ever told anyone about the abuse she'd kill you. That's why I tried so hard to push you away."

"Why me?"

Sighing deeply and running a hand through my dark hair nervously, I continue. "Because she knows you are the most important person to me. She found out that…I'm in love with you."

I cringe and close my eyes. I don't want to see his reaction. Any minute now he's going to hit me, tell me he never wants to speak to me again. My chest tightens in pain. Suddenly I feel warm lips on my own in a deep kiss, arms wrapping around my neck.

I kiss Kyle back hungrily, wrapping my arms around his waist. This kiss is better than the one we shared in the closet, because we're both participating. He tastes so good, so sweet. I can't get enough of him. I open my mouth and deepen the kiss. I give him all the love I have. My heart pounds hard against my chest in happiness. I've been waiting for this moment for so long. And now it's finally happened.

We only break away when we need oxygen. "I love you too, Stan. I've been waiting all month to tell you how I feel," Kyle whispers, caressing my cheek lightly. Shivers run up and down my spine.

"I can't tell you how long I've waited to hear you say you feel the same," I whisper back, kissing him tenderly. I push off his green hat and run my hand through his red curls. I feel so good on the inside.

"FINALLY!"

Kyle and I pull away, redness on our cheeks. I can't keep the grin off my face, and neither can Kyle. Kenny and Butters are grinning at us madly. "About time you two hooked up!" Kenny says cheerfully, giving us a thumbs up. Butters has tears of happiness in his eyes, hugging Kenny tightly. I wonder if they were really asleep or just pretending to hear what we'd talk about. It doesn't matter. I have Kyle and that's all I care about.

"We'll give you two lovebirds some time alone," Kenny says. "Come on, Butter-ball." Kenny and Butters leave the room.

Kyle and I glance at each other and then shrug. I lie back on the bed and wrap my arms around my new boyfriend. He leans back and snuggles into me. I kiss his head. "I love you," I whisper.

"I love you too, Stan."

Then unable to keep my eyes open any longer, I fall into a peaceful sleep, holding Kyle tightly in my arms. My life is finally perfect.

******Last chapter is coming up next :)**

******Thanks for reading. Please review :)**


	12. Chapter 12

(A/N: Sorry for the wait. I've had to juggle school and getting out of writer's block. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the last chapter! ~Ellivia22~)

(A/N: I would like to thank my loyal reviewers especially: ******Shebeepup, Samathou, Meghan486, Meop, Jaziswhatyouwant, DarkSlayer18, **and ******Shirbells Style Whitlock. **You guys rock!)

Disclaimer: still not mine

******Affliction**

******Chapter 12**

******Stan**

******Two months later**

"Just take nice and easy steps," my physical therapist, Cole says, beckoning for me to come forward.

"You can do it, Stan," Kyle says, squeezing my hand in reassurance, then lets go.

___I can do this_ I tell myself. I hand my crutches to Kyle, who takes them and moves to the other side of the room where the doctor is standing. I slowly get off the bed and on my feet. I stumble slightly from not putting weight on this foot for so long. After wobbling a little, I regain my balance and put one foot forward. I sigh in relief and continue to make my way towards Kyle. It feels so good to be on my feet again. After a month in the hospital, and another month on crutches, I'm almost fully healed. The only forms of abuse that I still have are the lashes on my skin from Shelley's whip. Unfortunately the doctor said that's never going to go away. I'm just going to have to learn to live with it. As long as I still have Kyle by my side I know I'll be fine.

Our relationship is everything I hoped it would be. He's so sweet and caring. He's supported me through everything, and I know he will always be there for me no matter what. I love him more than anything.

After a few more steps I finally make it to the other side of the room where Kyle and Cole are standing. "Great job!" Kyle says happily.

"I am very pleased with your speedy recovery," the young doctor comments, making notes on his clipboard. "And I'm sure you'll be happy to hear that you can get rid of those crutches. I just suggest you use the brace until our next appointment in two weeks."

___Finally!_ I shake his hand. "Awesome! Thanks a lot for all your help."

He smiles. "No problem. See you in two weeks."

I hug Kyle briefly then we step out of the doctor's office. "I'm so glad you're getting better," Kyle says happily, squeezing me back tightly.

"Me too. I haven't been this happy in a long time."

"Same here." Kyle pauses. "There is one thing that would make me happier."

I look over at his serious face. "What's that?"

"If we came out."

I sigh. This is one of the rare fights that Kyle and I have been having since we've become a couple. He wants everyone to know about our relationship. I on the other hand am scared to death. What if everyone, especially my family, has the same reaction as Shelley did? "I know you want everyone to know about us, but you know why I am afraid to."

"Stan, just because your sister is a psycho homophobic bitch doesn't mean that everyone else is going to be. Besides, both of our parents are okay with Kenny and Butters' relationship. I just don't want there to be any more secrets."

My heart is thudding hard against my chest. He's right. I'm just so afraid. We sit outside the doctor's office. I refuse to look at him. I know keeping a secret this big is hurting him, and that's the last thing I'd ever want to do. I want to make him happy, and it looks like the only way I'll be able to do that is get over my fear.

I take a deep breath and look into his emerald eyes. "Okay, Kyle. If that's what will make you happy. We will come out."

A huge smile spreads across his face. "Thanks Stan. This means a lot to me. Everything will be okay. I promise."

I force myself to smile back. ___I sure hope so._

KSK

******Ding Dong!**

"Stanley, honey, could you get the door please," Mom says from the kitchen.

I get up from off the couch and move towards the door. After making the decision to come out to our parents, Kyle and I talked them into having dinner tonight. I straighten my blue shirt. It feels weird wearing a color other than black, but I'm glad. I've missed wearing my favorite color. Plus I figure if Kyle and I are going to come out to our parents then I should look decent. I take a deep breath and open the door. Standing right outside the door are Mr. and Mrs. Broflovski and most importantly Kyle. He looks so good that I'm fighting the urge to wrap my arms around him and kiss him.

"Hello Stanley," Mrs. Broflovski says. "How are you feeling?"

I smile back. "Much better, thanks. Come on in."

I step back and they enter the house. Shelia and Gerald go to the kitchen where my parents are cooking, leaving Kyle and I alone for the moment. I wrap my arms around him and hug him tightly. Our lips meet in a short, but passionate kiss.

"You ready?" Kyle asks after we pull apart.

I swallow the lump in my throat then nod. We pull away. "Let's get it over with," I say in a voice that isn't my own.

He squeezes my hand and we walk out of the living room to join our parents in the kitchen.

"Sorry Ike couldn't make it," Sheila says sitting at the table with my parents. "He already had plans with a friend."

"Oh it's all right." Mom says, handing her a glass of wine and Gerald a beer.

Dad must've noticed us. "Hey boys, what's with the serious faces?"

Kyle nudges me, indicating that I should go first. I take a deep, shuddering breath. "Mom, Dad, I have to tell you something."

"What is it, Stanley?" My mother asks.

I lose all my courage and look at the floor. I fiddle with the ring Kyle gave me for my birthday. Now that I'm safe I can wear it again. "The reason Shelley started to hurt me is because she found out that…I'm in love with Kyle."

A silence fills the room. "You're gay, Stan?" Dad asks.

I nod my head, still refusing to look at anyone. I feel Kyle grasp my hand. "Are you gay too, Kyle?" Sheila asks.

"Yes. I'm in love with Stan." Kyle answers boldly.

Another silence fills the room. Unable to stand the suspense any longer, I look up. Both mine and Kyle's parents don't look surprised. They look at each other, then back at us. "Thanks for telling us, boys, but we knew this was coming." Gerald says.

Kyle and I look at each other in shock. "You did?"

"Yes we've known for a long time. We've been waiting for you to tell us. And don't worry," my father gives us a reassuring smile. "It's okay with us. We still love you."

I feel as though a heavy burden has been lifted off my shoulders. I can't believe my parents knew that I was gay all along and are okay with it. Nothing could make my life better. Happily I wrap my arms around Kyle. "Thanks guys!"

I steer Kyle out of the room. "Dinner will be ready in five minutes!" Mom shouts after us.

We collapse on the sofa. I wrap my arms around Kyle. He snuggles into me. "Thank you so much."

I kiss him tenderly. "I'd do anything for you."

"I love you, Stan."

"I love you too, Kyle."

As we wait for dinner, I hold my boyfriend lovingly in my arms and sigh happily. I'm safe from my abusive sister, Kyle loves me, my parents accept me. Nothing can be better than this.

******The End**

******Thanks for reading. Please review:)**


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